


I Write

by LokiLover84



Category: SHINee
Genre: Diary/Journal, M/M, Pain, RIP Kim Jonghyun, Suffering, Taemin Hurts, Tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21512725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiLover84/pseuds/LokiLover84
Summary: Just short little entries from Taemin's diary. Mentions of death, suicide, and the healing process, which is never pretty.
Relationships: Kim Jonghyun/Lee Taemin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Confession: I'm stuck in a rut and feeling some kinda way so I thought I'd tackle this little idea that's been stewin in my brain for a while. I hope I don't make too many people cry!

Dec. 22

Jonghyun. I can’t even write your name without crying. I can’t think of you without my vision blurring and everything becoming a kaleidoscope of color. Why did you go away? Was it something I did, something I said? Or was I just not there for you enough? I tried to be. I love you so much! I can’t believe you’re gone. It hurts so much! Who will comfort me now? Who will care for me, for us, now? You were always my rock. I miss you. It seems unreal, except for this aching hole in my heart. 

How can you be truly gone when you’re still so much with me?


	2. Chapter 2

I write. 

I write so I won’t forget. Won’t forget the way you looked at me, like I was a treasure, a rare diamond to hold and protect. Won’t forget the way you touched me, the first time, all trembles and gentle caresses, like you were afraid you’d break me. Loved the way that you grew bolder each time, always gentle but more confident in yourself, in me, in us. I write so I won’t forget the words you whispered to me, the sound of your voice rough and possessive. I write so I won’t forget-

I love you.

Sometimes I hear those words, so clearly that it feels as though you’re speaking them right in my ear, like if I turn I’ll see you standing there, lips curved in a smile, arms open, waiting for me to say it back and move into you. 

But you’re never there. You never will be again, and there are times when my heart breaks all over again, the tears come no matter how hard I try to stop them, and I can’t even look at the others, because I know I’m reopening their wounds, and it’s not fair for me to always ask them to help me, when I can’t offer any help in return. 

Then there are those horrible times when I can hardly remember your voice, or even your face. I know they say time heals all wounds, but why does that have to mean forgetting? It should make it easier, I suppose, but it feels like losing part of myself. I sometimes wonder if this is how people with Alzheimer's feel- they know they’re losing memories, but there’s no way to fight it, to keep the loss at bay forever. I can’t bear the thought of forgetting you- it feels like losing you all over again each time. 

So, I throw myself into my work. I write, I wrack my brain for the lyrics to put my love for you into words, to show others I’m healing, and that I’ll be ok. Sometimes I can’t sleep, and other times I wake up wishing my eyes would never open again. My friends try to distract me- the label puts me in a new group, when everyone is enlisted but me, we sing, and dance, and tour, and I smile, and laugh, and talk, and eat, and- 

But it’s never enough. Even when I finally get a much earned- and much needed- vacation, right in the middle of laughing and playing and relaxing, thoughts of you creep in and-

I get angry. Why did you have to go? How could you have been so selfish? Wasn’t I good enough for you? Didn’t I mean enough to you, to make you stay? The answer is always no, and then I feel horrible, because that’s not fair. You fought alone against your own brain for so long, and no one knew the true extent of how much you were suffering. My only regret is not seeing it, and helping more...But what more could I have done? The truth is that it was something that we couldn’t overcome alone, or even together- so many things created the perfect storm that eventually separated us. So, my only option now is to live, for both of us. 

And write, so I don’t forget. 


End file.
